Nemesis
by Wickfield
Summary: Mandark has a master plan, but Dexter has a secret weapon. There can only be one boy genius in town, and nothing but an all-out battle will end this rivalry now…or is it just the beginning? Ego Trip-verse, prequel to Core.
1. Phase One

**Nemesis**

An Ego Trip Fanfiction

by Wickfield

 **Phase One**

 _"Warning, warning. Information systems overloaded. Secondary power supply activated. Central control base overheating, atmospheric hydrocarbon levels climbing, evacuation protocol initiated. Translation: You are in trouble, Dexter."_

"Yes, Computer," said Dexter as he dangled upside-down. "I can see that."

Blinking and sputtering in the green-gray smoke, he strained for the thrust levers just barely out of reach, his harness cutting into his shoulder. He heard a crackle in his headset, and then that obnoxious sound –

 _"Ha-ha ha! Ha -ha ha ha ha!_ "

The windshield of his Dexo-Robo filled with glossy red and the enemy-bot soared up from below. "So Dexter, what do you think about my new-and-improved laser blasters? No, don't answer that – I can see your head is spinning! Ha ha ha!"

Ugh, that was more than he could bear! Dexter lunged for the control panel, yanked down on the lever, and at last his giant robot righted itself. "Computer," Dexter choked through the smoke, "engage back-up battery system, and cut power to all auxiliary functions! Get that smoke cleared now – are you _kidding_ me?"

Mandark's great red lobster claw came springing toward his bot and Dexter braced himself against the seat. The impact shook the entire cockpit. Through layers of protective plating Dexter could have sworn he felt his brain rattle in his head.

Dexter pressed his headset, mounted in the hood of his Dexoskin flight suit, against his ear. "Oh, come on, Mandark, is that all you got?"

The whole point of the radio com was for delivering snappy comebacks, and Dexter did not intend to miss such a golden opportunity. But when the smoke began to clear from the cockpit, the flight instruments revealed that the Dexo-Robo was in even worse condition than he imagined. The needles behind the glass spun crazily. He was losing altitude, fuel levels, and speed. And Mandark was aiming a bright green laser right for his left rocket launcher.

 _Huh_ _,_ Dexter considered. _I guess that's **not** all he's got._

Dexter readied the two purple blast gloves for counterattack but there wasn't time. Mandark's laser fired and the Dexo-Robo spun through the stratosphere, the robotic leg bursting into shrapnel. Bits of metal soared past the windshield.

One rocket meant there was no way to keep his bot in flight. Now he was really in trouble. He would have to take it to the ground.

"Whatsa matter, Dexter? Feeling out of your element? Just admit it, you're no match for my new and improved Astro-Bot! Go ahead, say your prayers! Maybe I'll go easy on you!"

"Easy? Ha! Let's take this to the city. Even with one leg," Dexter spat, "my bot's gonna take you down!"

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah!"

Or, more accurately, nope. Dexter knew his bluffs were crystal-clear. There was no way he could sustain battle against Mandark's powerful machine. "It doesn't make any sense," he shook his head and fought with the joystick to keep his overbalanced bot steady. "This tech is even more advanced than those schoolboys in Japan!" Mandark's lab was still hideously underpowered. How had he managed such elegant advancements in his giant robot?

Dexter's bot roared toward the city, stars and blackness replaced by blue skies and clouds. Shining skyscrapers seemed to grow up on either side until he reached the street, the great boot-shaped rocket switching to terrain-mode before digging into asphalt. "Aw, Mandark, need a hand? Activate fire fists of fury!" Dexter deployed a blast glove in an effort to remove the weight from his machine's left side. It rocketed toward the huge red cranium of the Astro-Bot, but Mandark's cockpit shot skyward on plated cables and the weapon missed its target.

He'd already exhausted his arsenal. His PEZ rockets were off in the stratosphere. Engines failing, electricity cut, powered by a single leg…ugh! If only he were old enough to swear! But Dexter could almost taste the bar of soap.

"Computer," Dexter grumbled, "remove power to the Dexo-Robo – AAAGH!"

 _"Command unclear. Please repeat."_

"Computer! Power down the bot! Go!" His headset filled with cackles. Dexter winced, two long robotic arms snaking around his robot's head. "Aw, Dexter, leaving so soon?"

Dexter didn't deign a response. Instead he balled his fist and in one movement brought it crashing down through glass to punch the big red button marked with the big white word – "EJECT!"

Oh, he hated ejecting. The G-force was gonna squish his spine. He would be at least an inch shorter. But he knew when to admit defeat, and this was definitely it.

Dexter's seat slid black from the dashboard. Glass and metal panels sprang up on every side to form the body of the patented Dexscape pod. Dexter braced himself, but as the escape hatch opened up in the ceiling above him, one of the robotic arms whipped away from the cockpit, revealing stripes of daylight in the windshield. "Inconceivable!" Dexter roared, and the escape pod blasted skyward, immediately caught and crunched in a massive claw.

"Ugh, _Mandark_ _!_ " Dexter roared through thick nausea from the sudden whiplash. "You buffoon! You dumb stupid thing! Let me loose or I will – "

"Get real, Dexter. You're not gonna do anything." The propulsion cables retracted into the torso and brought the escape pod toward the visor-shaped windshield of Mandark's bot. "You're not gonna do anything, because you can't do anything, and that's the whole point!"

Dexter tilted his nose and shut his eyes, partially to signal defiance, mainly so he didn't have to see his enemy's stupid face and ugly flight suit.

"Think what you like, Mandark! But quit wasting my time. I have to get back to my laboratory."

"Well, in that case, comrade," Mandark replied, " _dos vidanya!"_

He brought the claw forward like a major league pitcher and Dexter 's tiny pod barreled out of his clutches, hurtling over the city streets until Dexter was crushed into his seat with streaming eyes.

"There's no hope! I'm going to crash!" Sparks flew across the glass – he heard the aluminum panels tearing off his pod from the incredible speed. He was sailing over the suburbs, he could spot his own house in the distance. "Computer, deploy chute!" Dexter gasped. The street was magnifying before his eyes. "Computer, now! Deploy chute!"

The chute exploded behind his pod, and if not for his harness he would have been fired through the windshield. But the parachute alone was no match for such speed, and Dexter desperately threw his arm across his face. The escape pod angled toward the street, chunks of asphalt flying through the air as he went digging through the pavement, sliding to a stop just outside his house.

He wasn't moving. He was still. Was he dead?

Dexter reached with his foot and kicked out the random shards of glass that composed his broken windshield. He staggered through the opening, fell forward, and lay on the street with a pebble in his cheek.

When he heard a steady slurping sound through the hood of his flight suit, he knew he was either alive or in hell. Or maybe both.

Dexter rolled over to find Dee Dee sitting on the curb outside their house, slobbering over a giant rainbow lollipop. "Hiiii Dexter! Want some of my sucker?"

Dexter waved his arm and made an incoherent groan that resulted in the lollipop cementing itself to his glove.

"Wow, Dexter!" Dee Dee was already swarming over the rubble that was once the escape pod. "Mandark really beat you good, huh? Dexter? Hey Dexter, where'd you go?"

Dexter waited for the cement slab of the family patio to slide out of place in the backyard, then stalked down the staircase leading to Sector IV of his laboratory. This section of the lab was buried ten stories deep, terminating at a level of solid bedrock. It was the one region large enough to house the great hangar for his custom robotics and aircraft, not to mention the swimming pool was an excellent disguise for the hatch in his SkyPort launch complex.

Dexter shuffled across the lab's tiled floor toward Computer's nearest control station, divesting himself of his shredded flight suit and sticky gloves while Dee Dee's footsteps squished along behind him. "So, did you guys fight in space? Did you use your fire fist of fury? Did you break your robot? Did you win? Did you lose? Come on, Dexter! Say something!"

 _"Crap."_

Dexter glared at Computer's screen, his crisp lab coat hanging unbuttoned and forgotten on his shoulders. The monitor towered over both their heads, and Dexter could practically feel Dee Dee's blank stare behind him. He punched a command into the keyboard and Computer zeroed in on the sickening image. "Yikes, Dexter," Dee Dee hissed in dismay. "Is that your robot?"

"No, Dee Dee, it's an animatronic that escaped by cloak of night from Chubby Cheese. _Of course it is my robot!_ _"_ Dexter roared with frustration, buttoning his lab coat crookedly over his black sweatshirt. Then he gave up and plunked his head onto the desktop.

"Wow." Dee Dee leaned against the keyboard and Dexter pulled himself out of despair long enough to push her hand off the keys. "Wow, Dexter. Mandark _really_ kicked your butt, this time. What the heck happened?"

"I don't know…"

"Y-you don't know?" Coming from Dexter, that was a scary answer. Apparently Dexter thought so too, because he bolted upright in his chair with a mighty frown.

"Don't put words into my mouth, Dee Dee."

"I didn't put anything in your mouth – "

"There's a very reasonable explanation, of course."

"So let's hear – "

"Clearly Mandark his invested in advanced technological upgrades for his giant robot, technologies he has not, heretofore, been able to employ."

"Yeah." Dee Dee glanced at the mess on the screen. "Clearly."

"The question is," Dexter pursued, "how?"

"And why."

"I know _why_ , you stupid Dee Dee. Mandark still labors under the _ridiculous_ delusion he can somehow best me and assert himself as sole boy genius in the neighborhood – and possibly in the world. But I know – heck, even you know – that that is completely and utterly impossible. Even after a year, Mandark's lab retains but a fraction of its previous functionality. There is no way he could generate the resources for such high-powered modifications. So the question remains – how did he do it?"

"I dunno." Dee Dee shrugged. "But he sure did it."

Dexter studied the screen, lips pressed into a frown. There was no way to deny it. His bot was definitely trashed.

After his ejection the Dexo-Robo had toppled into the street, but giant robots and monsters were such a common occurrence that the cityfolk carefully steered their cars around the hull and passed it on the sidewalk without a second glance. One young ne'er-do-well was already spray painting his name in big green letters on the bot's remaining boot.

"Hey you, get away from there!" Dexter shook his tiny fist at the screen. "That does it! Computer, initiate auto-pilot mode! Time to bring this baby back to the lab." The image of the crippled bot staggered to a stand then pitched awkwardly into open air, its weak rocket flaring to life amidst dirty smoke.

Thirty seconds passed in uneasy silence - which was exactly thirty seconds too long for Dee Dee. His sister draped herself over the back of his chair and propped her chin in her hands. "So, tell me, Dexter. When are you guys gonna stop fighting and be friends?"

Dexter wheeled his chair to face her and pitched her off her balance. "Friends? FRIENDS?"

"Yeah, friends! You guys have so much in common!"

"You must be out of your mind."

"Come on, Dexter. You said it yourself – it's been a whole year since this dumb battle got started. Aren't you even a little bit bored with this whole duel of the minds thing?"

"Don't talk about what you don't understand, Dee Dee. You don't understand at all."

"Oh yeah?" Dee Dee tilted her chin in the air. "Try me."

Dexter pulled up his legs, rested his chin on his knees, and studied his sister behind the blue lenses of his glasses. This was a waste of time. But he could already tell she wouldn't let him off that easy.

"Okay. Fine. I don't expect you to remember the details. But when Mandark first moved to town, it was his goal to replace me."

"Replace you? Dexter, he could never – "

"Shut up, woman, and let me talk. He tried to blot my achievements out of existence. Tried to outshine my intellectual capabilities. Tried to estrange me from my friends – which is to say, the faculty – at Huber Elementary. He almost succeeded at all these things – until he came after my laboratory. Even you know, Dee Dee, that my laboratory is my most prized possession, more dear to me than my – than my own…"

"Heart!"

Dexter furrowed his brow. "Yes. And no man can survive without something that important. When Mandark tried to take that away from me, he made himself my nemesis. And I will not allow my nemesis to prosper, to get the chance to do me wrong again. That's why there can be just one boy genius, and so we will battle until that day has come."

"Yeah, but I still think it's dumb. If you guys keep fighting like this, one of you is gonna end up really hurt."

Dexter waved his hand. "What do you take us for, Dee Dee? Schoolyard bullies? This is a battle of the wits, a duel of the minds. A scientist – even such a fraud as Mandark – does not resort to anything physical."

"You don't have to hit someone to hurt them, Dex."

He didn't like her looks. Not those big blue eyes. Not at all.

Dexter pulled up the collar of his lab coat and focused on steering his robot's course for the lab. It was in such wretched shape its engines gave their last gasp just a few yards from the Computer before collapsing in a metallic heap on the laboratory floor.

"I'm going to have to transfer this to the repair station," Dexter decided. "Forty percent of the body has sustained critical damage, the protective coating is fried, not to mention required upgrades for the rocket mechanisms – ugh. It's going to be a busy week."

"Aw, poor guy!" Dee Dee sighed. "Don't worry, Dexo-Robo!" She patted the shiny coating. "Pretty soon Dexter will fix you up, good as new! He's a lot better with robots than he is with people. Isn't that lucky for you?"

\- X-

 _Sing a song of Mandark, the greatest genius the world has ever known_! It was good. Really catchy, awesome alliteration, it would sound great in the history books, but could he bear to use it twice? He'd already shouted it to the heavens after his defeat of the kaiju Badaxtra, prancing about the streets of Tokyo beneath a layer of slimy green guts. Mandark frowned into the darkness. Nope, nothing could compete with a new and shiny soundbyte for his victory speech, but he'd settle that later. It wouldn't do to get too far ahead. He wanted to savor every triumph of his master plan.

And oh, what a triumph today's battle had been! Phase One, already completed! Mandark hugged himself beneath the sheets, visions of Dexter's failing bot drifting through his mind. He would swear he was dreaming – except these days, he always dreamed the same horrible dream, of his broken laboratory overrun by black thorns.

Mandark glanced at his digital clock for the millionth time. 11:30. Eh, it was no use trying to sleep. He was way too excited by the day's adventures to catch a single wink, much less forty. "Time to hit the lab."

Mandark climbed out of bed and searched his foot across the floor for his slippers. It was a huge temptation to put on the spiffy new wingtips he'd gotten for back-to-school shopping, but he knew their hard soles would easily wake his sister Olga who lay grumbling in the next room. That was the last thing he needed, she was a monster without her beauty sleep. He grabbed for his bathrobe, on the back of the bedroom door, but he'd forgotten his Halloween costume now hung in its place. His favorite holiday was just a week away, and then he could finally debut his Count Dracula costume, complete with a dashing, mysterious cape. He couldn't wait for Dee Dee to see him. He knew she'd be impressed.

He found his robe on the back of a chair and knotted the belt around his waist, then padded softly down the hallway and out the kitchen door. He had never repaired the underground chute to the laboratory. Now he used his flashlight to guide the way, picking around lawn flamingoes and crunching through dead leaves.

The automatic doors swished open in the entryway. A chorus of electronic voices greeted him. _"Welcome to the laboratory, Mandark! How may we assist you?"_

"Oh Mandroids, you are too kind!" Mandark stood tall and clapped his hands in command. "But I don't need any help tonight. I know exactly what to do – time to begin PHASE TWO of my top-secret master plan, ha ha ha!"

The team of Mandroids burst into canned applause as Mandark's jet-powered desk chair came swooping down from the heights of the laboratory. It scooped Mandark up from behind and soon he was whizzing across the upper levels of the laboratory, on course for the observatory in the east wing.

Mandark studied the lab beneath him with a sullen frown. His heart beat quickly in spite of himself. It had been nearly a year since that awful, awful day – the day explosions rocked his laboratory, years of work destroyed in an instant, hundreds of inventions and prototypes and fond memories swept away. It was a welcome whim of fate that Dee Dee had damaged just the center portion of his laboratory, which lay broken and unrepaired below, lifeless as a crater on the moon. The facilities on the fringe of the space still functioned, but they left his capabilities severely limited. Gone were the days where his lab accommodated every aspect of science known to man. But that was kind of the point, wasn't it?

His chair came to a halt at the viewing deck of his observatory tower. Flipping the skirts of his robe aside Mandark seated himself at the enormous professional-grade telescope which, at the moment, was focused on Dee Dee's bedroom window four houses down. Despite its incredible strength all he'd been able to see was a dollhouse and a pile of naked Darbies which, he supposed, was better than nothing. Mandark shook his head. "I will return to this viewpoint at a later date. Now, to search the heavens."

Mandark wasn't sure if he was talking to himself or to the Mandroids hovering nearby. Either way, he decided he might as well monologue to fill the time while he keyed in the commands increasing the telescope's magnification.

"Today was a productive day, more gratifying than I could have ever imagined. I, Mandark, am not exactly used to such brilliant successes, not since that pitiful excuse for a scientist…. _DEXTER_...arrived on the scene to thwart my every aim. There was a time when I stood alone at the pinnacle of scientific achievement, inspiring awe and jealousy everywhere I went. But then, ah, that fated day, he sent his deadly agent to destroy my life's work. Since then, I have struggled even to match wits with that freaky little gnome. I would die before betraying such a humbling secret, and yet it is certainly true. With my poor laboratory ravaged, my energy sources drained, and my confidence badly shaken, a lesser man than I would have given up. But no, I have concocted a plan to regain my dominance in the field, as well as my dominance in the neighborhood, and secure my rightful place as sole boy gen – oh, yikes, it's gotten closer."

Mandark adjusted his glasses and peered more closely at the telescope eyepiece. Five high-powered lenses clicked into place over the opposite end and he gulped, his view filling with the rocky surface of Meteor-131. "I've been tracking that thing for a week, it's a good thing I couldn't sleep tonight or its trajectory would have taken it out of reach. Man, I really am getting soft – that was a simple calculation."

Mandark grit his teeth and reached for the laser attachment mounted to the optical tube. "Firing laser," he announced, "3…2…1."

The beam was invisible, but the effects were almost immediate. He glared through the eyepiece to see the mass of yellow rock blown apart into a cloud of meteorites. Mandark sat back in his chair with a satisfied smirk that grew into a grin and a giggle. "Hehe. PHASE ONE of my plan is complete. I knew Dexter would not be able to resist an old-fashioned dog fight, mecha-style. He's so used to cheating he surely though he'd win. But that little twerp failed to consider that I spent the last three months loading every single piece of advanced tech into my giant robot. I might have abandoned my laboratory repair schedule but oh, it was worth it to see him so utterly defeated. HA! His bot was a piece of junk! Let's see you stroke your little ego with a trip into outer space, Dexter." Again Mandark peeked into the eyepiece. The meteroids, blown out of orbit, would enter earth's atmosphere by lunchtime tomorrow. Perfect. "And while you leave your laboratory unattended, I will…."Mandark yawned. "I…." He yawned again. He might be about to enter PHASE TWO, but it was nearly midnight. Maybe it was too late for monologuing after all.

Mandark summoned his desk chair with another clap, this time bound for Ducky's enclosure on the opposite end of the lab. His eyelids grew heavier and heavier until he practically toppled out of his chair when it jerked to a stop, rolling over to the large windows that looked out above the grid of neat houses surrounding his suburban home.

He loved being up this high. It was so much better than his first-floor bedroom. Mandark looked out at the moonless sky, pricked with sharp white stars. Maybe, when his lab was repaired, he could add in a proper sleeping loft. It would be like sleeping in a castle.

Mandark unrolled the sleeping bag he'd propped up next to Ducky's pen. His pet hunched snugly in its nest, his pale yellow feathers fluffed up to keep him warm. Mandark reached in to stroke his back, careful not to wake him up. Then he crawled into his bag, zipped it up, and prodded his pillow into submission. Directly in his line of vision stood the great digital clock tower he'd built in third grade. Mandark drew in a little gasp – _12:12._ He screwed his eyes shut. His mother, superstitious fool that she was had always told him he got a free wish at 11:11. Of course _that_ was patently ridiculous. 12:12 was a much more reasonable number, befitting a scientist who was not at all silly, but didn't mind putting the word out there, just in case.

He wanted lots of things – to be taller, better-looking, and for Dee Dee to fall madly in love with him. But his special wish was always the same – "to be the greatest genius the world has ever known."

Yes, he would make a sleeping loft. He'd build up all the pieces that had been destroyed. He'd make them bigger, better, and brighter. And he would add a hot tub.

It might take a while. He'd have to deal with a broken laboratory, and all the bitter jealousy that went with it. But he could do it. Just a little longer, and he'd never have to worry about Dexter again. He could start feeling good for a change.

He couldn't wait.


	2. Phase Two

**Phase Two**

"So then I decided to use the leotard from last year's recital, because it was pretty sparkly, and if you're gonna be a fairy princess you gotta be sparkly, right? So I'm gonna wear that, and my special tinsel tiara, and those funny doodle-bobbers to show I'm a mythical creature instead of just a regular creature, and then I – Dexter, I don't think you're listening."

Dee Dee yanked on the little pair of boots peeping from beneath the Dexo-Robo's severed leg. With a tremendous growl Dexter slid forth on four wheels, covered in grease and filled with fury.

Dee Dee smiled. "That's more like it!"

"Dee Dee, can't you see I'm busy?" Dexter groped for a rag to wipe the grease off his face and used his wrench for dramatic gestures. "I have to finish the repairs on my starboard…leg, it has sustained critical damage and how do you expect me to finish up with your jabbering in my ear?"

Dexter sniffed derisively, slid his mechanic's creeper back under the leg, and was promptly yanked out again. "I don't expect you to finish up, silly! I expect you to take a break, let your poor brain rest, and talk to me."

It wasn't completely ridiculous. He had been working on his bot all morning long, and his progress rate had begun to slow. Of course, Dee Dee couldn't recognize his fatigue. The usefulness of her suggestion was mere coincidence. Of course.

Nevertheless, Dexter sat up and allowed himself to be yapped at for a few minutes because it was better than wasting even more brainpower in trying to shut his sister up.

"So anyway, like I was saying, Dexter, I'm almost finished making my be-yoo-tiful fairy princess costume. And a good thing too, there's not much time left!"

"Time for what?"

Dee Dee was scandalized. "Till Halloween! Don't tell me you forgot!"

"I did not forget," Dexter lied. "I just do not care. I am in fifth grade, much too old for costumed shenanigans. And so are you!"

"Nice try, Dexter." Dee Dee rolled her eyes. "You never miss a chance to "suit up", Mr. "I'm-too-cool-for-jeans-and –a-t-shirt."

In response Dexter hiked his lab coat above his boots. "I am wearing jeans. And a sweatshirt, thank you. But…I suppose I could repurpose my Dexstar uniform, it hasn't seen a deal of action lately."

"Are you sure you haven't outgrown it?" Dee Dee covered her mouth and burst into giggles. Dexter glowered.

"Hmph. That's what I get for listening to you. Go away. There is still much to do."

"What are you doing, exactly?" Dee Dee followed Dexter's gaze up the sturdy, stocky robotic limb.

"This is the leg that fiend blew off the Dexo-Robo. It crashed in the ocean and I sent my sub-bots to retrieve it. My giant robot will be overbalanced without it and I assumed it would be easier to repair it than to rebuild from scratch." Dexter grimaced and scrubbed some more grease from his face. "But now I'm not so sure."

"So, um, if you fix the leg, and stick it back on the robot, does that mean it's fixed?"

"Hardly. The hydraulic system was fried in the electrical fire, the hull is crushed and useless, not to mention the engines are inadequate to the high-powered maneuvers that will be necessary to compete with Mandark's advanced tech…and it's beat-up and it just looks ugly."

"I see. That's too bad." Dee Dee fidgeted in silence. "Oh, I almost forgot something else! I have dance class in like half an hour. I can't be a prima ballerina skipping class! So I better get out of here and, y'know, let you get back to work and stuff." Dexter suddenly found himself squeezed in sisterly sympathy. "You'll be able to figure it out, Dex, I just know it! But you have to get finished before Halloween so we can go trick-or-treating, okay?"

"I make no promises." But Dee Dee had already skipped through the exit and disappeared.

It was a funny thing. Standing alone in the laboratory, it seemed like the task ahead of him was even more difficult than before. "I suppose I can work around a battered exoskeleton – and a few more hours should finish up the leg." But that still didn't solve the problem of the energy source – he was going to have to redesign the engine, or engineer an alternative from the ground up. And that was not going to solve the biggest problem of all – the fact that Mandark had beat him in the first place.

"It doesn't make sense." Dexter shoved his trusty wrench into his pocket, stomping in Computer's direction. "Mandark's barely made any progress on his laboratory's construction. Where did he develop the capabilities to power up his bot?" Because that would mean he was using his brain. Being methodical. And Mandark certainly wasn't intelligent enough for that…right?

"Computer, signal Dexellite-343. Let's return to the scene of the crime and see if that provides any clues." Dexter waited for Computer to call up the cameras on his satellites when he was greeted by a sight he certainly did not expect to see. "Hello, what's this? Meteoroids?! Computer, calculate the trajectory! I did not see these in my previous surveillance check. At the rate they are traveling, they should be – "

"Reaching Earth in approximately 160 minutes."

Dexter pushed himself away from the desk and sprang to his feet. "I will not let earth be dinged around by no meteoroids! My giant robot will have to wait. My planet needs me!" Dexter jabbed his finger to the sky. "Time to suit – hey, wait a minute, I always take my giant robot when it's time to save the day." Dexter stamped his foot. "Stupid Mandark! Oh well, I suppose my Super-Robot 5000 will have to do the job. Ahem. As I was saying – "

"Suit up?" Computer provided.

"Yes. Exactly. Hmm…" Dexter stroked his chin. "Maybe Dee Dee's right. I might be getting too predictable."

-X-

Mandark stood impatiently on the step, cold October winds biting at the bit of skin between his shorts and socks. He shouldered his heavy knapsack and leaned on the doorbell again. "I know these people – except for Dee Dee – are dumb, but are they deaf too?" He hauled back his fist to pound the door when he suddenly came face to face with Dexter's mother. He turned his fist into an awkward wave and cranked out an equally awkward smile.

"Oh, hi there, hon!" the red-haired woman smiled and motioned to the vacuum cleaner in her hand. "I'm sorry I didn't hear you at first, I had some tidying up to do. Come on in, it's getting pretty nippy out here!"

Mandark stepped into the house and received a toxic blast of bleach fumes right in his face. What was this woman cleaning up, a crime scene? He was going to have to rescue his love from this family of lunatics, that much was for sure. "Thank you, ma'am. Dexter and I are sharing a homework assignment this week, we need plenty of time to work on it. Is he home?"

Dexter's mother nudged the door shut with an ample hip. "Yes, sweetie, he's been in his bedroom all morning. You can head right on up! If you boys get hungry, there's ants-on-a-log in the fridge."

Yuck. He got enough health food at home. Mandark began up the stairs, and when the roar of the vacuum assured him the woman was busy, he dashed up the steps two at a time and raced toward Dexter's room.

"Of course the bookcase is the secret entrance, that midget intellect could never be bothered with anything creative. I just need to program the algorithms into my handy dandy laser blaster – excellent!"

The laboratory's bolted doors opened before him. Mandark could barely contain a dance of glee. "Excellent indeed. Time to get down to business."

From their previous skirmishes in the lab, Mandark knew the huge space was divided into five sectors. He needed to get to Sector IV, far away and deep in the depths of Dexter's laboratory. And he needed to move, now.

Unlike Mandark's own facilities, Dexter's lab never blared an alarm signaling an intruding presence. Mandark guessed it must go off every five minutes in tribute to the visits of his golden-haired angel.

In fact, he could spy the signs of Dee Dee's presence all over the laboratory. Here and there were scribbles of pink crayon on blank areas of metal between the control panels on the wall. One particularly large button was circled with question marks and doodles. Once he spied an inert robot covered in stickers, and twice he had to dodge a lagoon of glitter to avoid the fate of a human disco ball. "Such feminine touches." Mandark sighed. "In the future, perhaps, I will be able to offer them a hallowed place in my own lab."

Despite the traces of her presence, there was no Dee Dee, and certainly no Dexter, in the midst of the laboratory now. Pausing in the middle of Sector III, Mandark realized he was all alone in Dexter's lab. All alone, for the first time. It felt surprisingly strange, like being woken up from a dream. Like he'd just made some great discovery unknown to mankind – "I'm in Dexter's lab, and I'm all by myself."

There was no fighting, no explosions, no witty repartee. Just space and silence, save for the tiny mechanical beeping of the machines nearby.

Mandark paced across the floor, feeling odd. He stared at his reflection in the polished tiles. He took in the tidy workspaces, the curly chemistry-setups, the soaring walls. He tilted his head back and gazed into the laboratory's heights. In the distance stretched bridges, stairways, a great model of the household fly, buffed to a mirror-like shine. Standing stock still, he became aware of his heart beating loudly in his narrow chest.

Dexter loved his lab. It wasn't just the hideaway of his sworn enemy, as he'd always imagined it to be. It was where he felt safe, free to create, to be himself. Mandark looked around again, at all the inventions and innovations surrounding him on every side, and suddenly he felt sick, and miserable, and furious.

Dexter knew what it was like. He knew what a laboratory was, everything it represented, and it was his fault Mandark slept in the ruins of his own safehaven, why his heart still ached from the loss.

Dexter didn't deserve his lab. He didn't deserve any of it.

He reached Sector IV in fifteen minutes and dropped to his knees in the middle of Dexter's aircraft hangar. Beads of sweat rose up beneath his collar and he grit his teeth as he pulled the heavy explosive device carefully out of his knapsack. One of Computer's monitors was situated nearby. He could hear her reciting the progress report of the meteorites' trajectory to the empty room. He'd lost time, mooning about. A lot of time.

He shook the dark fringe out of his eyes and focused on the device, splicing the last two wires into place to activate the 24-hour timer. It was a weak explosive, it could barely take out a few-hundred square feet, but after pouring so many resources into the upgrade of his bot it was all he could afford. He drummed his fingers impatiently and waited for his pocket-laser to slice through the tiles in the floor. Then he prized them up, dropped the bomb into the gap, and rose to his feet.

"Done, perfect timing. By this time tomorrow, Sector IV will be no more and – oh no. No, no, no!"

Mandark gulped and spun around the hangar, eyes frantic. "Where's the Dexo-Robo? Where's his stupid bot?"

The walls were lined with all manner of crazy craft but the powerful mecha, his greatest threat, was nowhere to be seen.

Mandark shoved a hand over his mouth. "He must have moved it for repairs. Yes, it was heavily damaged, a great blow. For all I know he dismantled it – " he slid his hand down his face. This wasn't part of the plan. This was a problem.

But there was no time to waste. By this point his precious meteoroids must all be vaporized and Dexter would be returning at any second. He had to bail.

"No need to worry. No. Phase Two is almost complete. Dexter will never know what hit him."

At least that was what he told himself as he punched the "transport" button on his wristwatch and felt that creepy tingle. The next second his atoms were split apart, and he and all his plans went streaming back to the transport center in the heart of his own laboratory.

-X-

"Get out! Get out right now, do you understand? Do I need to say it in Russian, French, or Japanese? Exit! There! Go!"

"That sounded like English to me." Dee Dee reached across the desk and again Dexter lifted the battery out of reach. Of course this had little effect and his gangly sister plucked the gizmo straight from his purple gloves.

"Gosh, it's heavy! This isn't a battery, Dexter. Batteries are teeny-tiny and go in remote controls. You could never fit this in the clicker. You wouldn't be able to lift your arm – "

"IT IS NOT FOR THE CLICKER! It is a specially-designed radioisotope generator specifically created for use in my giant robot! And if you break it, I will lock you in the engine bay and make you pedal me to the stratosphere yourself! Give it back!"

"Okay, okay, fine. Here." Dee Dee plunked it onto the desktop. "Is that better?"

Dexter hadn't expected to be obeyed, so to fill the awkward silence he smoothed his hair and straightened the collar of his lab coat.

"Yes. Much better."

"Are you even going to tell me what it does?" Dee Dee moped. "Or is that top secret too?"

"It is not top secret. I told you, it is a battery for the giant Dexo-Robo. I have decided to replace my previous triple-engine configuration as an atomic battery will have much greater longevity with fewer risks of complications. Or, at least," he added, wrenching a screw 30 degrees into place, "it will once I develop an energy source."

"Like that pink bunny with the sunglasses?"

"What?"

"Oh, forget it."

Dee Dee in a bad mood was almost worse than Dee Dee in a good mood. Dexter cleared his throat and eyed her sideways. "I will have to create a new kind of atom," he informed her. "Dexterium-112 is not powerful enough to keep the battery running under such a trying workload."

Dee Dee perked up slightly. "Really? Will you get to use the atom smasher?"

"The particle collider. Yes. But first I have to finish my battery, so if you will stay quiet, and stop that ticking, then you can stay and watch me – "

"Ticking? I'm not ticking!"

Dexter scowled. "Well if you are not ticking then what's that sound?"

Both of them looked at each other, then both of them stopped and listened.

Tick tick tick. Tick tick tick tick tick.

"What the heck is ticking?" Dexter demanded. His wristwatch was digital. Dee Dee could never be bothered to wear one.

"Hmm, that's a toughie. Maybe it's an old alarm clock." Dexter rolled his eyes. "Or, y'know. A bomb."

"A bomb! As if anyone would have the time to plant a bomb in the laboratory! I haven't even left the place at all since – "

Tick tick tick.

"Computer! Computer, access log of yesterday's activities immediately!"

The monitor was several yards away but Dexter's sudden command echoed through the lab. "What time did the Super-Robot 5000 depart lab premises?"

"Super-Robot 5000 exits Sector IV SkyPort launch facility at 11:00 hours."

"Currently 11:58 – standard issue 24-hr delay – that means….MOVE! GO!"

"Dexter, what – hey, watch it!"

Dexter seized his sister's wrist in one hand and his battery in the other and with great strength and speed towed both to the far side of the desk. "Get down!"

Dee Dee shrieked. Dexter upended the desk, sending tools and machinery scattering across the floor to create a barrier to protect them. Dee Dee raised herself on her knees but was yanked to the floor. "Get down, sister – NOW!"

FOOM!

Dee Dee screamed. A cloud of flame burst forth from the hangar doors. Dexter crouched low and wrapped his arms around his battery. Shrapnel cut across the laboratory, and their desktop barricade went sliding across the floor. Jagged scraps of metal sliced past as he and Dee Dee rolled and tumbled from the impact. When he raised his eyes the lab was dark.

"Power cut, I should have known, the Sector IV mainframe cannot support – "

"Dexter, look!"

Dexter risked a glance above the desktop edge to see his Bird-Plane drop from its cables and crash to the floor amidst the horrified screaming of his sister. His bi-pedal ambulator, robbed of its own leg, creaked and groaned and broke into pieces against the tile. The force of the fall jarred the floor so the siblings bounced into the air, Dee Dee landing all angles on top of Dexter's chest. The lay tangled together for a few moments, in a strange silence, both of them straining their ears for signs of further attack. But the explosions had run their course, the damage was done, and Dexter picked himself away from his sister's clutches, breathing hard.

Dee Dee, of course, was thinking only of herself,. "Oh my gosh, Dexter, that was not my fault, I swear!" she bleated hysterically. Dexter hunched silently over his atomic battery, eyebrows drawn beneath his glasses' rims. "Really, Dexter, don't be mad! I didn't do anything, honest! Don't be mad, Dexter, I'm sorry, but not because I did it, because it's not my fault – "

"I know it was not your fault."

Dee Dee would have said more but instead she doubled over, seized with a fit of coughing. What fuel had not burned up in the blast spread flaming across the floor, sending clouds of colored smoke rolling through the air. All power was gone. Darkness reigned, with only Dee Dee's coughing and protests breaking the solemn silence.

"I know it is not your fault, Dee Dee." Dexter surveyed the damage with a grim eye. "This was planned. This was purposeful. And that – that's a problem."


	3. Phase Three

**Phase Three**

When Dexter walked into the living room on Halloween night, Dee Dee was hovering near the door coated in about an inch of glitter glue while Mom struggled to strap a gigantic pair of cardboard wings to her scrawny shoulder blades. "Hey Dexter!" Dee Dee turned and smacked Mom in the face with her wings. "Where's your costume?"

I have decided not to participate in this year's Halloween festivities."

"Whaaaaat?" Dee Dee wailed at the same time Mom asked, "Why?"

"I am too old for trick-or-treating. That is all."

"Aw," Mom swiped a tear from her eye. "My little man's growing up!"

"You mean you don't even want any candy?" Dee Dee demanded.

"No. I only like vegetables. Preferably green."

Mom let out a sentimental sigh. His sister was less impressed. "Dexter, you're not just weird, you're NUTS!"

"Well if you change your mind, Dexter, you're more than welcome to hand out candy with me." Mom adjusted her rubber gloves in preparation.

"No thank you, mother," Dexter replied, returning Dee Dee's suspicious scowl. "I will retire to my bedroom instead."

"Well you can't have any of my candy, since you're too grown up to care." Mom ducked like a ninja to avoid another swipe of the glitter-encrusted wings, then waved along after Dee Dee who jolted out the door into a crowd of costumed kids. When she turned back around, Dexter too had disappeared.

"This is a most opportune situation." Dexter sped across the landing to his bedroom door. "Dee Dee will be gone for hours in her stupid magic bug costume, and the sugar crash will render he unconscious for an even greater length of time. I cannot afford to be disturbed tonight in any way. Not by Dee Dee…and not by anyone else."

Dexter selected a jawbreaker from the handful of candy he'd swiped behind Mom's backside. "That cheating son-of-a-pseudoscientist! Thought he had outsmarted me, delivering the blow to my electromechanic quarters. Very good, Mandark: plant a puny bomb in a roomful of fuel and magnify your explosion tenfold. But you have overplayed your hand, you fool. You thought you could break my spirit by destroying my lab and all my brilliant aircraft. But I am made of stronger stuff than you, and you will not beat me, no matter what you have in store."

Dexter had walked so far over the course of his monologue that he was forced to pause, switch his candy to the opposite cheek, and take a look around to get his bearings. "Ah yes. Aisle 12. Future scrap."

Dexter picked his way through the part of the lab he often referred to as "The Land of Broken Dreams." He always enjoyed a grandiose title, but in reality it served as a dumping ground for machines that had malfunctioned, passed their due date or otherwise refused to bow to his command. And ever since he'd gotten that whopping bill from Nasa, he opted to recycle whenever possible.

Dexter tossed aside various useless hunks of metal the way he dug through his toy box for an action figure. "Computer, is it here? Invention DX-19-99? Search the archives." Dexter braced his gloves against his knees and panted for breath. A pile of dusty junk wasn't exactly helping his asthma. "What's the hold-up, Computer?"

 _"Invention DX-19-99 stored in section Alpha-2 of laboratory resource recycling center. AKA," she drawled, "The Land of Broken Dreams."_

"I don't need your attitude, Comput – ah, at last!" Dexter leapt over a tangle of cables and righted the large blue clock tower laying on its side in dust and cobwebs. Slowly and carefully he dragged it out into the light, cleared off the grime, and hauled it upright. "My time machine." He stood on tiptoe to wind the hands of the old-fashioned clock. "Created in order that I might converse with the greatest minds of history. Unfortunately that business with the interdimensional doorway rendered it…less than reliable." Dexter shuddered, remembering all to clearly his skirmish with the unholy mass of pink goo. "But if I want to know what Mandark has up his over-starched sleeves I'm going to have to risk it. I cannot leave my laboratory in danger, not when I have the means to protect it from my nemesis' dark purpose."

 _"But Dexter,"_ Computer intoned, _"project notes for your time machine show reveres travel capabilities only. To translate – you can only visit the past."_

"Ah, Computer, that is incorrect. Journeys to the past were the only kind I _tested_ _._ " Dexter clamped the time machine's power cord into its external control panel. "They are not the only kind possible. Still, travel to the future is certainly unpredictable. The future has not yet occurred. You cannot target a specific date. That makes it risky. And that," Dexter declared, stepping into the machine, "is why you must wish me luck! To the future! Let us see what it holds, and thereby stop it in its course."

-X-

"Dee Dee! Dee Dee!" He wasn't surprised she couldn't hear him calling. The streets were swarming with all manner of superheroes, monsters, and ghouls, blathering their excited chatter. In fact she didn't turn around even when he was nearly upon her, but he dared to call her musical name one last time. "Dee Dee! Wait up!"

She faced him with a frown. Mandark was struck speechless. From the sparkling tiara in her golden hair to the light dusting of glitter on her cheeks, she was positively ethereal.

"What do you want, Mandark?"

Mandark shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Dee Dee, guess who I am."

The fairy princess took one look at his cape, ascot, and slicked back hair before rolling her sky blue eyes. "Oh, I dunno."

"Try again, I'm sure you can guess." Dee Dee groaned. To help her along, Mandark drew his cape beneath his eyes and clawed his hand. "Do you know now? Come on, guess!"

"Oh, I see it! You're a dork in a cape!"

Mandark let his cape fall swishing around his shoes. "No, I'm Count Dracula. A vampire."

"You can't be a vampire. Vampires are handsome. And anyway, you aren't supposed to wear a store-bought costume on Halloween. That's lame!"

Lacking in any appropriate response for this, Mandark popped out his plastic fangs and asked, "Why are you by yourself?"

"I'm waiting for my girlfriends. And I wish they'd hurry up," she grumbled under her breath.

"Oh. I've been trick-or-treating for an hour already. I wanted to get to the best houses before anyone else." Dee Dee shrugged and he began to get the feeling he was inches away from getting told off. Not like she hadn't done it a zillion times before. "Dee Dee, what's your favorite candy?"

"All of them!"

"But what's your favorite?"

Dee Dee thought hard for a moment. "Ummm….taffy!"

"You can have mine!" Mandark pressed a piece into her hand, and she watched open mouthed as he separated the rest of his stock and dumped it in her bag.

"What did you do that for?"

"Well you can't be out alone without any candy! I'll keep you company till your friends arrive. Aren't you going to take a bite?"

"Last time I ate your candy I got a stomachache."

 _Last time you ate the wrappers_ _,_ Mandark thought. "This time you won't, I promise!"

Dee Dee reluctantly tossed the taffy into her mouth and plodded silently at his side, gripping her treat bag tight. Walking with Dee Dee on a cool autumn night, in front of all their classmates, with the colorful leaves skidding past their feet and the promise of candy in the air – what could be better than that?

Well, one thing, maybe. "Hey, Dee Dee?" Mandark cleared his throat to steady his tone. "Where's Dexter tonight?"

"At home like a crazy person. He said he's too old to trick-or-treat! I'm even older than he is!"

"That _is_ crazy."

"I know! I think he's fibbing, though." Dee Dee tilted her nose in the air, her hair cascading down her back like molten gold. "I think he's still mad because his lab exploded last weekend, and he's barely been able to fix anything all week."

He couldn't help it. He grit his teeth. He clamped his hand over his mouth. Still the gleeful laughter bubbled up from his throat and sneaked through his fingers. "Ha ha…ha! Ha ha ha!"

"Are you laughing?" Dee Dee froze to the sidewalk, face red and eyes wide. "You _are_ laughing! Dexter's really upset! He almost got blown up, and so did I!"

"What?" Mandark asked, serious at once.

"Yeah, that's right, Mandork. It was a big deal. But you're so busy fighting with my brother you think it's just a joke! I'm really getting sick of this whole boring rivalry. Tell me, are you ever gonna stop being mean to Dexter? "

"I'm not mean to Dexter!"

"Yes you are. So when are you gonna stop?" She stamped her big foot and his heart raced faster than ever. "Well, Mr. Smartypants?"

"I- that is…I don't intend to fight him forever." He scuffed the toe of his shoe against the sidewalk. How could he ever explain? "I know you probably don't even care, you're going to pick his side anyway. But when your brother destroyed my lab, he made himself my nemesis. My lab was the best thing I ever created, don't you see? I have to at least _try_ to get it back."

"That's funny."

"What is?"

She shrugged. "It's just that Dexter said the same thing."

The magnetism in her blue eyes – the force that kept him staring, despite his sweating palms and aching chest – was broken when she heard her name called somewhere down the street. He looked over he shoulder and spied Mee Mee and Lee Lee, each in an outlandish get-up, screaming at the top of their lungs. Without another word, Dee Dee ran off to join them.

There were laughing kids surrounding him on every side, but standing there on the sidewalk in his long black cape, he felt awfully alone. And when he saw Dee Dee shovel his candy out of her bag and toss it into the street – then he felt less than invisible.

-X-

The light was bright and blinding, then all of a sudden Dexter was back in the laboratory – the laboratory of _now_.

He staggered out of the machine, doubled over, swallowing back the wave of nausea occasioned by the vehicle's sudden stop. When the cold sweat faded away and the knot in his stomach eased, Dexter raised his eyes, desperate to be sure the sight before him was real.

Sector II stretched into the distance – cool, clean, complete. No great rifts in the blue tiled floor. No blood-red sky pouring through a damaged ceiling. No sparking wires, no graveyard of dead machines broken apart and wiped of precious information. It was his lab, _his_ lab, not that horrible wreckage of a terrible future.

The lab was quiet – Dexter checked his wristwatch. Unlike the science-fiction movies he knew so well, time travel in the real world did nothing to prevent time proceeding as usual. A full hour had passed in the course of his travels, but his sister would still be traipsing through the streets in ridiculous fancy-dress. "Computer, activate advanced security measures in the electromechanic repair station," he barked, surprised to hear the hoarseness in his tone. "There is no time to lose."

No, no time at all. When he had climbed into the time machine, the greater part of him insisted he would find an unaltered future. He was _supposed_ to step into a lab even more brilliant and advanced than the one that surrounded him as he tore in the direction of his Dexo-Robo. Mandark was not supposed to win. He could not win, no, never. What on earth and all its multiplicity of timelines could that crazy fiend have in store net? What could possibly raze the laboratory to the ground? And when would he strike? Dexter knew the answer to none of the questions battling in his brain. The details of his travels were fuzzy, but the picture was impossibly clear. He had to do everything in his power to take Mandark down, before he was the victim of his own complacency.

Arriving at the fortified repair station, Dexter stared up at the towering, half completed Dexo-Robo 2000, and his fingers tightened around the trusty wrench in his lab coat pocket. "It doesn't matter how long it takes me. I'll work all night, even abandon my time at school tomorrow, if I must. This is not a game anymore. I will not leave the laboratory until my giant robot is on its feet once more, and ready for the final battle."

-X-

"Atom smasher…atom smasher…" Dexter yawned, slapped himself across the face, and furrowed his brow as he typed the access code into the keypad. "It does have a certain ring to it, I suppose." With a mechanical whir, the bolted blast doors to his atomic experimentation facility slid apart, and Dexter, with another yawn, headed straight for the imposing machine located in the center of the room.

"We are making good time, Computer. I have finally repaired and re-attached the Dexo-Robo's limb. The blast gloves have been redesigned and recalibrated for maximum force and impact. I have reapplied a layer of aluminum plating, reconstructed the wires that were severed during the electrical fire, and even gave the guy a good shine to boot. And it is only 4 am! If I keep up at this rate, I won't even have to risk my perfect attendance!"

Dexter frowned at the staircase leading up to the control panel of his specially designed Dex-o-matic Atomic Particle Collider. "Whose idea was it to put in stairs anyway?"

 _"Yours, Dexter. Project blueprints indicate "towering staircase for enhanced dramatic effect._ "

Panting and wheezing, Dexter slogged up the steps and seated himself at the control panel of the ion cannon. From its great height, it angled downward to the reaction chamber, where the real work would take place. "Load Dexterium-112," Dexter commanded. Suspended in the electro-grid, from his magnified view Dexter could see his own specially-created element whirling in a dazzle of blue electrons. But that was precisely the problem – it required a magnified view. "The atomic battery required to power the Dexo-Robo needs a much more powerful energy source." Dexter strapped on his green safety goggles. "Dexterium's rate of radioactive decay is too fast, particularly when taxed by such a great machine as my giant robot. And so…" Dexter lined up the sight of the cannon with the miniscule nucleus, "I am going to need a really big atom. Fire!"

Dexter activated the ion cannon. Immediately a yellow beam burst forth, blasting particles of ionized titanium at the target. Dexter carefully tracked the process, watching his creation grow through the transparent reaction chamber. "It needs to be bigger than that! Fire!" Again a string of atoms collided with the suspended Dexterium atom, every nucleus crashing into the target, adding protons and neutrons and multiplying the resulting element's size.

 _"Energy reading reaching maximum levels,"_ Computer reported.

Dexter chuckled. "Perfect. Just what I need to defeat Mandark, and he'll never see it coming! Computer, what say you – shall I call my new creation "the element of surprise"?"

 _"I would not recommend it, Dexter."_

"Hmm. That's strange." Dexter focused on the reaction within the electrogrid. "It's almost as if, no, that cannot be. That defies every law of physics…right?"

No known element – and Dexter knew them all – had ever been discovered to draw energy to _itself_ _._ And yet that hybrid of titanium and Dexterium, as it grew and changed, appeared to be doing exactly that.

"Why, it is practically drinking up the titanium ions on its own! How can this be? And look how it grows!" Dexter leaned in for a closer view as an alarm pierced the air above his head. "Look at it go! It's almost the size of my hand!"

 _"Warning! Warning!"_ Computer screeched through the speakers. _"Reaction conditions unstable. Energy levels exceeding maximum tolerance levels. Automatic shutdown in in effect – "_

"No, Computer! No, this is my override – "

 _"In 3…2…"_

"No, Computer, wait – "

 _"1…"_

BOOM!

Dexter toppled from his chair and fell ten feet to the floor as shards of glass shattered through the air with a deafening clatter. Computer's alarm screamed overhead, and Dexter lay still for several minutes on the cool tile before daring to pick himself up and check the damage. Regaining enough breath to move, he realized he had not actually been blown out of the chair. Apparently he had just fallen from the surprise. Hmm. That wasn't quite impressive.

The front half of the laser cannon and the reaction chamber itself was no more. Dexter saw this, but he didn't care. He was too entranced by the amazing sight glowing in the dark.

It was green. It wasn't just the effect of the goggles after all. It was green, sparkling, perfect. Its power was so great it had blown the chamber to bits, and yet it floated serenely in the force of its own energy, gently tinkling as the subatomic particles whirled around the hazy nucleus.

"Computer." His voice was so soft she almost couldn't register the sound. "Computer, log invention DX-11-12. Combination of Dexterium and titanium particles. Unusual properties. Massive energy reserves. Add the date and call it…hm….call it….well, for now, I guess, call it the Neurotomic Protocore."

-X-

Dexter entered the laboratory, tossed his backpack to the floor, sat at his desk, and waited. He pulled the atomic battery closer, to make sure it would be visible. It might be useless and redundant, but it still looked really cool.

"If my calculations are correct," Dexter said to himself, "I should be getting the message right…about…"

"Greetings Dexter! Stop and be amazed! It is true, I, Mandark, have tapped your communications system, and there is nothing you can do!"

Dexter whirled about in his chair. Every screen and every monitor glowed with the image of Mandark's ugly face.

"Mandark!" Dexter gasped to keep it believable. "You dare intrude the silence of my lab? Are you not man enough to face me yourself?"

"Man enough and more, Dexter, I assure you. A little birdie told me you experienced a certain – surprise in Sector IV. I heard you had a blast!"

"No…. _you?_ But how?"

"Your defenses are worthless against my vast intelligence!" Mandark screeched, "And my intelligence grows stronger every day. A full year and more has passed since you sent your deadly agent to my lab and now, now our little game of cat and mouse is coming to an end."

"And you think you will emerge the winner, Mandark? HA!"

"Moxie, Dexter? You can't afford it. But if you refuse to admit the true genius, if you want to be humiliated for all the world to see, then I challenge you to a showdown! Do you accept?"

"Mandark, I have no choice."

"Very well! Friday! 3'o'clock! I shall be waiting in the city."

"Very well!" Dexter echoed as the screens went dark. "Very well. But you'd better fasten your seatbelt, old pal-sy." He tapped his fingertips together. " It's going to be a bumpy ride."


	4. Meltdown

**Meltdown**

"Are you working hard, Dexter, or hardly working?"

"Working hard, Mom. Mrs. Wolfberg likes to give out lots of homework."

Mom reached to ruffle his hair. "That's my smart boy. Dee Dee, hon," she called, "keep an eye on your brother, I need to run to the store for some milk."

"'Kay Mom!" Dee Dee chorused from the living room, cranking up the volume on the TV until the funky beats of a Groove Train rerun filled the entire house.

Dexter waited for Mom to find her keys and shut the back door, then he pushed his fifth grade homework, complete and corrected for mistakes, to the back of the table with a scowl. "I couldn't have planned it better myself. Of course I _did_ have to finish that carton of milk, but with Mom out of the way and Dee Dee…" he glanced into the living room where his sister slid moonwalking across the carpet. "Hm. With Dee Dee otherwise engaged, I will not need to worry about interruptions of any kind." Dexter smoothed his hair, straightened his glasses, and tried to ignore the racing of his heart. In an hour's time, their rivalry would be over. For better or worse, he would never have to worry about Mandark's interference, would never have to think about him, ever again.

For better. Dexter checked the wristwatch strapped around his glove. Yes. It was certainly for the best.

-X-

Mandark checked the instruments mounted on the cockpit walls. All was in order, but that was no surprise. He had worked and reworked his giant robot every day for weeks, ensuring everything was in perfect condition, no, better-than-perfect, because he knew this day was going to come.

Still, he checked the controls again and again. He didn't need to be nervous. He was the best. He was gonna kick butt. He'd made sure of that.

He was almost embarrassed to feel a twist of relief seeing Dexter there in the middle of the street, tiny and fat and unarmed. And holding up traffic. The cars honked their horns as they carefully steered around him.

"Ah, Dexter," Mandark shouted into his mic, "so you finally show up after all! I'd begun to think you'd chickened out – but I should have known you are much too stupid to realize when you've been outclassed and outmatched!"

Funny he didn't bring his Super-Robot…or even his Dexo-Transformer. Upon occasion, he'd delivered a few good smacks with that. Standing there in nothing more than his school clothes and lab coat, Dexter looked ready to admit defeat. Could it be possible? _Maybe this will be easier than I thought._

"Don't you have anything to say for yourself?" Mandark called. "Any final words before I kick your butt and how you how a real genius triumphs?"

"Yes," Dexter nodded, raising his fist in the air. "Buckle up."

No no no no no no no.

Dexter punched a button on his watch and Mandark's stomach plummeted to the floor. _It can't be! No! He couldn't have!_ But he could feel the vibrations rising through the street and into the cockpit as the giant Dexo-Robo clomped into view, great spectacled windshield glinting in the sun.

"There is no time for suiting up!" Dexter announced, clutching the handheld mic in the opposing cockpit. "But it's a small price to pay for a chance to see you squirm. What's the matter, Mandark? Not so self-assured now, eh?"

Mandark scrubbed the sweat beneath his flight suit collar and grit his teeth. "Forget you, Dexter."

"I think you'll find that difficult," came the reply, and then a blast of energy barreled straight into the center of Mandark's Astro-Bot.

Mandark reeled from the impact and blinked from the light, seizing for the controls as his mech doubled over and heaved backwards down the street, colliding heavily against a great MegaCorp billboard.

The hull was undamaged but it took him several seconds to right the machine, tall red boots grinding deep into the paved streets. The Dexo-Robo was upon him and Mandark struck out with clawed fists, immediately blocked by the strong heavy arms of his opponent. "That response time is impossible." Mandark chewed his lip. "Those are 100 tons apiece! What kind of system could power – "

"That's my little secret, Mandark. Yes, that's right –" Dexter clamped onto the red claw and twisted until the cables were crushed. "You were talking out loud, old friend."

"You are no friend of mine, Dexter. You're _nothing_ , that's what – and I'm gonna prove it! Lock target!"

Mandark fired the electron laser but it missed its aim – the city bank was blown to rubble but the Dexo-Robo blasted high into the air. "Okay, run away!" Mandark cranked his jets to max power. "You won't get off that easy!"

Dexter roared skyward, plunging into cloud cover until the city below shrank to microscopic proportions. He had never achieved such speeds in the Dexo-Robo. He had made no alterations to the body and yet the giant robot sliced effortlessly into the sky, thanks to the energy of the powerful core.

Through the spirals of his exhaust Dexter could make out the red and white body of the Astro-Bot, stretched at full-length and gaining quickly. Almost too quickly – the lanky frame was upon him and the vicious claws were open wide.

"No – not the – "

"Laser cannons, activate!"

The green rays blasted forth and tore through the plating on the Dexo-Robo's chest, ripping away the trademarked "D" insignia. "Laser cannons? How could I forget the laser cannons?" Dexter growled, lunging to re-orient the bot in mid-air. "He never uses those! Hmm…maybe that's the point…."

Again the yellow-green light welled up in the barrel of the laser cannons but Dexter was ready. "Prepare arsenal!" The head of the robot shot upwards as Mandark's lasers fired between the tracks. "PEZ missiles, fire!"

Candy-colored missiles clicked up into place and Dexter could hear Mandark's hurried breathing and rapid commands as he searched for a means of escape. The missiles whizzed out, the Astro-Bot dancing along an evasive trajectory until the third and final missile clipped him in the "shoulder." The connection between limb and body exploded on impact and the claw went spiraling into space, smoke and wires issuing from the point of damage.

"Curse you, Dexter!" Mandark screamed into the mic. "You think you're so smart, ha! You don't know the meaning of it!"

"Don't lose your cool, Mandark," Dexter returned, rapidly dropping altitude until the city came into view. "This is just a game, remember? A game you're about to lose!"

Mandark practically choked with rage, and the Astro-Bot descended in turn, and surged forth until the pair were locked in a grapple above the city skyscrapers.

Dexter forced a false calmness as the Astro-Bot's remaining claw gripped onto his leg, whipping back and forth as though wielding a yo-yo. The Dexo-Robo tumbled head over jet-powered heels, and the next second his enemy's powerful arm shot forward again, coiling like a snake around the center of Dexter's machine.

"It's like the tough guys say." Dexter could almost hear his rival's grin. "I can beat you one-handed!"

"You forget, Mandark – you are not a tough guy." One colossal purple glove crashed down on the globular cockpit, the other aimed for the torso's giant "M". Both shocked the mech so that the telescopic cables retracted, and Mandark was once more hurling commands at the Astro-Bot's computer.

 _He's exhausted all his tricks._ Dexter hit a dial and reversed course, back into the suburbs. Mandark followed in hot pursuit, and Dexter could judge his mental state well enough from the bot's erratic flight. True, his defensive abilities were strong enough, but the offensive improvements were the point of pride – and the same techniques that had destroyed his own bot in their last battle now barely made an impact at all. Dexter grinned to himself and cranked up his speed just for the satisfaction of leaving Mandark in his dust.

But Mandark had no intentions of being outdone. "If it's a dogfight you want, Dexter," he hissed, "it's a dogfight you are gonna get. Lock target! Activate…. _the big gun."_

Mandark knew it would sap his energy reserves. No matter. Dexter needed a lesson.

Two panels in the cranium of the Astro-Bot slid aside and a humongous shattergun rose toward the heavens, looking as much like a gatling as a comic-book nerd could design. Mandark cackled as the Dexo-Robo halted mid-flight and turned heavily – he could have sworn the bot itself looked surprised.

"Fire!" Six blasts of concentrated energy exploded from the barrel like shells from a shotgun and the Dexo-Robo went charging skyward but was struck once in the leg, once in the chest, and once in the head that encased the cockpit. Dexter's heavy bot toppled over and over and Mandark darted ahead, filling the airwaves with gleeful laughter as he saw the damage the bot had sustained. What puny legs had the Dexo-Robo – the jet rocket in the left boot sputtered weakly as the electrical system beneath the shattered plating struggled under the robot's size. He could hear Dexter retching from the cockpit, barely recovered from the quake. And the damage to the chestplate was severe.

"Wait a minute." Mandark adjusted the dashboard display, zeroing in on the chestplate in the distance. What he'd taken for an electrical fire deep within the engine bay was nothing of the sort. It was a strange….green…glow. A green glow, unlike anything he'd ever seen.

Mandark shook his head, he could not keep distracted. Dexter's bot had sustained damage, but it was not quite bested – and _his_ bot was losing altitude, fast.

"Give up, Dexter! Give up! Or do you want to see the other weapons I have in store?"

The Dexo-Robo charged forward undaunted. "Don't kid yourself, Mandark. Your bluffs are as weak as your eyesight. You can't even see where you are now, can you?"

Mandark frowned and pulled his gaze away from the cockpit ahead of him. "Oh, no. Oh _no_."

"That's right, Mandark. So wrapped up in your pathetic schemes, so many steps ahead of the game that you miss the most obvious maneuver of all!"

"No, Dexter, you wouldn't – "

"Do not tell me what I can and cannot do. I will no longer let you dictate my thoughts, my plans, my very movements!"

Mandark angled his windshield down, unable to breathe, toward the towers of his laboratory below the dueling bots. Unable to breathe, or move, or think, only beg, frozen. "Please, Dexter, please! You can't!"

"But I tell you, Mandark, with the power of my Neurotomic Protocore ," and Dexter raised his glove, gesturing to the green heart of the great machine – "with the power of the Neurotomic Protocore, I can."

He drew back, fired the blast glove, the unused blast glove - _why hadn't he noticed?_ – and in the same moment Mandark rammed the joystick forward and sent his bot straight into the glove's path.

"Mandark you fool!" the Russian voice shrieked. "Don't!"

It was too late. The super-powered blast glove struck the Astro-Bot's torso, the bot was hurled backwards, and it crashed, down, down, down through all the intricate layers of Mandark's laboratory.

It was a chain reaction. Dexter watched in horror as the bot's fuel ignited blast after blast, and then, as it shook the ground in the family's backyard, as everything collapsed into metal and glass and fire, Mandark was flung from the robot's cockpit and went tumbling through the wreckage of the lab.

It took several minutes to land the Dexo-Robo and a few more to reach his rival. Dexter halted several feet away, suddenly struck numb with fear. Mandark's helmet was gone and he lay still on his back, eyes staring blankly into the sky. "Mandark! Mandark, you fool, say something!"

Mandark said nothing, but he turned his head to face his foe. Then he slowly raised himself upon his elbow, then to his knees, and took a look around.

"You idiot! You utter buffoon! Don't you realize your bot was no match for mine? My fire fists of fury were ten times as powerful, my Neurotomic Protocore made everything powerful! You could have been killed!"

Mandark climbed to his feet. His flight suit was burnt and torn. But that was nothing compared to the state of the laboratory. His ruined laboratory.

"Look around, Mandark!" Dexter continued. "You risked your life for this? Don't you understand? It's over, Mandark! You have lost! But at least, well, at least you aren't dead, because…because it is no victory to defeat an opponent who is – "

A hoarse scream split the air and Mandark ran straight at him, tackling him around the waist and bringing them both to the ground.

Dexter's lungs emptied and he lay gasping as Mandark bore down on top of him and tore his eyeglasses from his face. Then Dexter could breathe but he couldn't see, no, he couldn't see at all, but he could hear Mandark crying and sniffling and shrieking incoherently. And then he felt fists against his face, over and over again.

"Mandark, no, stop - "

"You cheater! You filthy cheater! I begged you!" Mandark seized him by the shoulders and shoved him back into broken tile. He pummeled him with all his strength. "I begged you and you didn't care!"

"Mandark – ugh – Mandark, please!"

"You are not the boy genius! You're not!"

"Okay, okay, Mandark – "

"You destroyed everything! It's all your fault!"

Dexter coughed and choked, shielding his face with his arm, but his relentless rival fought on, digging his nails into his arm through the mist of myopic fog.

"Mandark, I'm sorry!" Dexter screamed, trying to snake his fingers into his pocket. "I only fired the glove, I never meant for you to – AARGH!"

Stars flew into blackness as his head slammed against the tile, but his fingers closed around cold metal and he struck out blindly.

A shrill yelp and the weight on his chest was gone. Dexter tightened his grip on his wrench as Mandark wailed in agony, he stumbled to his feet, then found himself forced backward, something plastic thrust into his gloved hand.

 _My glasses._ Dexter brought them to his face and there, unbelievably, stood his sister, pink ballet slippers braced wide as she kept him back with a swipe of her scrawny arm.

"Dee Dee! What are you _doing_ here?"

"I heard the explosion and I – "

"Get out of the way!" both boys screamed in unison.

"No way! Do you know how mad Mom is gonna be if you come home with a black eye?"

"But he started it!" Mandark shrieked.

"And I'm finishing it! Dexter, come on. Oof – Dexter!"

Dexter lunged to escape her, wrench in hand, then roared with indignation as his sister grabbed him around the waist, yanked backwards, and brought them crashing to down.

"Let me go!" Dexter struggled and kicked, but her arms locked around him like a vice. "Dee Dee, release me this instant, I have to do this myself – "

Snot and tears poured down Mandark's bruised face as watched the siblings struggle, clearly in disbelief. "Why are you helping him?" he sobbed. "It's not fair! He wrecked my lab twice, don't you see? Why are you helping him, I have nothing, _nothing,_ and it's all his fault!"

"That's right," said Dexter, "go ahead and cry about it like a stupid girl – see if I care! You would have done exactly the same, you're just mad you didn't get there first!"

"Stop it! Stop helping him!"

"Shut up, Mandark! Dexter, come on! Move!" Dee Dee hauled Dexter to his feet and towed him through the rubble of Mandark's laboratory without another glance. Oh, he wanted to break that idiot's nose with a blow of his wrench – but Dexter contented himself with the pathetic sobs as he was dragged away toward the safety of home.

-X-

"Thanks a lot, Dexter, I am going to get in so much _trouble._ "

"Owwwww! Dee Dee, cut it out!" Dexter ducked and coughed as she hit him with a cloud of burning antiseptic. Almost every surface of his exposed skin lit up in pain. Apparently he'd been cut up even worse than he'd imagined.

Dee Dee let out a disappointed hiss. "Yep, just like I thought. You're getting a shiner."

"Whenever I get beat up at school," Dexter wheezed, "Mom always applied a package of frozen – "

"PEAS!" A freezing cold bag crunched against his eyeball. This would have made much more sense if they were in the kitchen and not his laboratory.

Dexter muttered relentlessly under his breath as Dee Dee plastered him with bandages from the lab's first-aid kit. At last, she was satisfied with her handiwork and sat back on her heels. "Y'know, I'm not gonna say I told you so, but….I totally told you so."

Dexter replaced the bag of peas with his eyeglasses so he knew where to glower. "Told me what?"

"I knew one of you guys was gonna get hurt. Look at you. It's like you got hit by a car!"

"I've gotten worse."

"I'm serious, Dexter! You really shouldn't be so mean. I know, I know, Mandark was your ninnie-sis or whatever, and he totally had it coming, but what's gonna happen when you get yourself in trouble and I'm not around to save you?"

"I have a feeling you are always going to be around," Dexter grumbled. "Whether I like it or not."

"Y'know what, Dexter?" Dee Dee planted a sloppy kiss right in the middle of his forehead. "You're smarter than you look."

Dexter swiped at her slobber but found, in spite of himself, a hint of a smile creeping onto his face. "I'll be fine, Dee Dee. I won. Don't you see? Mandark has no laboratory – and what's a scientist without his lab? He is finished! I will never have to see him, or hear him, or think about him ever again!"

"What are you talking about? Of course you'll see him. You go to school together."

"But it's more than that. It's over, Dee Dee. I am free to create, to enjoy the laboratory, without the threat of interference. I just have to worry about you. Ow! I've won, and you don't know how good it feels."

"But I do know it's almost 4:30." Dee Dee grabbed his wrist and pointed at his watch. "See? Time for TV Puppet Pals! Come on, let's go watch!"

"Okay. But there's something I need to do first. You run on ahead, I'll catch up."

"Promise?"

"Yes, I promise." Dee Dee crushed him with a hug, then skipped out of the laboratory doors.

Dexter eased himself from his stool, replaced his wrench in his lab coat pocket, and proceeded to Sector IV of his secret laboratory. He had fashioned a temporary hangar and it was there, in the darkness, his giant Dexo-Robo stood waiting.

The lift raised him to the level of the bot's battered chest. With his wrench, he pried open the hatch to the engine bay, gut there was no engine, no battery, just an empty space and the bright green atom pulsing like a heart.

Dexter took the core in his gloved hands, descended to the ground. "The all-powering Neurotomic Protocore. I have called many inventions my greatest work, but this, this is undoubtably my greatest creation of all. For without its birth, I could not have freed myself from the shadow of my rival, or preserved the safety of my lab. All would have fallen to wrack and ruin. But now I am free to create. From this one invention, many more will come to life."

Dexter stepped onto a special platform with a pedestal erected in the center of his laboratory. "A place of honor. The only place for such a thing as this. Ah yes, the Neurotomic Protocore. My ticket to the top. And I have only just begun to investigate its great powers. Hmm. I wonder what else it can do?"

-X-

Black, red. Black, red. There was a light flashing somewhere. A flare of scarlet color, illuminating the wreckage of his laboratory, then casting it into painful silhouette. The only thing in the entire space that had managed to survive.

Mandark sat on the ground, knees pulled tight to his chest. His lungs ached from crying and his throat was swollen from screaming. _I wish I'd seen this coming._

He'd bruised his hands, he hadn't expected that. Of course, when you weren't thinking at all, blindly hurling blow after blow, he supposed you wound up in plenty of situations you didn't expect. He rubbed them to try to ease the soreness from the knuckles. _I wish I'd hit him harder._

Black, red, black, red. It was as if he couldn't see anything else, peering through narrowed eyes and the cracked lenses of his glasses. He'd managed to extinguish the fires ignited by his robot's explosion before his folks got home, but there was no explaining the mass of shattered work. His model death star, crushed to pieces. Preserved specimens, now bits of bone and flesh. Papers and projects burned away, vials and beakers smashed, toxins and antitoxins evaporating in the breeze, everything he'd built up from the cradle ruined, gone, destroyed. _I wish the crash had killed me, too._

Mandark jumped at the sound of metal clattering close behind him. He turned, savage, ready to strike at whoever or whatever approached. But nothing was there – a single can of spray paint clattered against the floor and rolled in a wide arc to rest at his feet.

"Gloss black enamel coating." It was almost full – no surprise. He hardly ever used black.

Then he turned again toward the tangle of broken and twisted metal, stretching away into the moonlight, and he realized where he'd seen that sight before: every time he closed his eyes, over and over in his nightmares. The lab of his nightmares. More real than any beautiful laboratory of his dreams.

Mandark rattled the can and shot. A stripe of inky black sliced across shards of glass. He swept his arm back and forth until whatever invention lay smashed beyond belief was covered in shadow. It could have been mistaken for a mass of ferocious thorns.

Thorns. Yes, thorns! Mandark reached out and heaved, trusting in the protection of his flight gloves to guard his hands against the sharp edges. He pushed until he'd made a heap of damage and struck with his paint, zig-zagging until he'd made a spiny tree of crossed-out calamity.

And suddenly all the wreckage looked like growth, somehow. Like it belonged, risen from the shadows, fresh and new. Mandark aimed and fired, marking out the shattered rainbow of yellow, red, blue, and green creation, until the can sputtered and died, and everything around him was black, whether the red light blinked or cast it into shadow.

 _I wish…_

Mandark hurled the paint can down to the tile where it ricocheted, echoed, and rolled out of sight. "No. I don't wish anything." He drew his raw hand across his grimy cheek and choked a lump of sorrow in his throat. "No. Wishes are for weaklings."

Oh, how stupid he'd been! How soft and weak and stupid! A real boy did not trust in flimsy acts of faith! A real boy – a real man – took action. He got what he wanted. And he didn't care what he had to do to get it.

"I was after the wrong thing," Mandark whispered into darkness. "I wanted fame…glory. But I needed something else. What I needed was…power."

Mandark felt a grin growing on his face, something brewing in his chest. "I need – what was it called? The all-powering core. And once I get it, I will do what I should have done all along. Destroy Dexter's lab? Ha! Child's play! No – I must destroy Dexter. HA HA HA! HA HA HA HA HA!"

The End


End file.
